


Forget-me-not

by iisaax



Series: Inflorescence [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Genderfluid Character, M/M, Other, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Transphobia, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 18:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15394878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisaax/pseuds/iisaax
Summary: When they woke, Steve could blame the cuddling on the chill, but until then he pushed his cold nose against Bucky’s warm back and breathed him in. Nicotine from those damn Luckies, musk, and something sweet hit his nose. It was probably perfume, and Steve’s heart clenched.He ignored the feeling and went back to sleep, matching his breath with the body in front of him.-for·get-me-not/,fərˈɡet mē ˌnät/1. a low-growing plant of the borage family2. represents growing affection; a connection that lasts through time





	Forget-me-not

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on ao3 since 2015, but this is my first time EVER posting anything! I LOVE to write, though, so there's lots more where this came from. Hope someone out there enjoys it! :-)
> 
> edit: Now with flower definition to match the other works in the [Inflorescence](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1103838) series

Steve had awaken to the sound of the front door creaking open. He blinked a few times in the darkness, his eyesight adjusting, but as he looked to his watch set on the bedside table, it was still too dark - or maybe his eyesight was too poor. He fell back onto the pillow, pulling the sheets around him tighter and scooting down into what could barely count as warmth, a little wary. He knew who it was coming home at what he could only assume was the middle of the night, but something in him still made him anxious, so he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

Shortly after the room was black again, the door to the bedroom opened softly. There were slow, deliberate footsteps across the floor, and a bit of rustling as a coat was taken off. A few moments passed, with more rustling and clattering, then Steve bristled as the mattress he was lying on was pushed down and a body slipped under the blanket. He heard a familiar grunt as it got comfortable, and despite himself, Steve relaxed.

Bucky pulled the blankets further over the two and soon a warm back pressed against Steve’s pointy shoulder blades. It wasn’t very comfortable, but with the temperature only dropping, it was something they had gotten used to.

Steve listened for a while to the heavy breathing behind him. When he thought the inhales and exhales were long enough to constitute sleeping, he turned and, just like he did every night, slid his skinny arms around Bucky’s waist. And just like every night, Bucky pressed back into him and sighed in his sleep. When they woke, Steve could blame the cuddling on the chill, but until then he pushed his cold nose against Bucky’s warm back and breathed him in. Nicotine from those damn Luckies, musk, and something sweet hit his nose. It was probably perfume, and Steve’s heart clenched.

He ignored the feeling and went back to sleep, matching his breath with the body in front of him.

-

When Steve woke again, the room was bright, and the bed was empty. He sat up groggily, looking around. Bucky wasn’t in the room. Steve looked at the clock and it finally told him it was just before 8 am. Bucky would be at work by now. Steve went back to sleep, feeling small.

-

When he woke a third time, the time was 10, and Steve got out of bed.

Bucky was in the kitchen this time, milling around. When Steve entered the room, Bucky glanced up and gave a quick smile, then returned to his cooking, pushing something around in a pan.

“I was just about to come wake you up,” Bucky told him over his shoulder as Steve sat down at the table, blankets he brought from the bedroom wrapped around his shoulders.

“I thought you had work today,” Steve rasped, voice still waking up.

Bucky jerked the pan around and something flipped, then sizzled above his words. “Naw, Boss is sick today, so he let us go home. I don’t have work until 4.”

Steve grunted his understanding and reached out for one of the steaming coffee cups sitting on the table. It was pale and he switched it out with the other, dark the way he liked it. He took a long drink, the warmth spreading through his chest and down to his toes, shivering as he warmed up.

Bucky came over and set down a plate and fork in front of him, holding the pan in his other hand. He lifted a pancake from it with a metal spatula and placed it onto the plate. Steve muttered a thanks, the domesticity nowhere near escaping him as he tucked in, not realizing how hungry he was.

A few moments later Bucky joined him at the table, curling his hands around his overly sweet atrocity and taking a sip.

Steve spoke through a mouthful, gesturing at the other with his fork, “You’re not gonna eat?”

Buck smiled at him, and it didn’t reach to the corners of his eyes like it should.

“I already ate, thanks.”

Steve didn’t believe him, but continued to eat, scarfing it down like it was the first thing he’d had to eat in a few days - probably because it was.

As he chewed around the admittedly dry pancake, he looked at Bucky and thought for a moment on if he should bring up the perfume or not.

“You were out late last night.” He found himself saying. “Same girl from the pictures last week?”

Bucky set down his mug with a frown, looking into it. “Naw, she never got back to me ‘bout it. Haven’t been seeing anyone since, sadly,” he added with a noncommittal shrug. “Had to work last night, y’know how it is.”

Steve nodded slowly, trying not to look like he cared too too much about how much his friend was getting. It was just weird, though. Bucky seemed like he always had a dame, and the perfume seemed like a dead giveaway of where Buck was spending his time, but Steve dropped the subject, ignoring the ever-clenching of his heart and resuming his breakfast.

-

It happened again the next few nights, Bucky coming home at a God-awful hour and pressing himself to Steve’s body, perfume and sometimes smoke curling up around him. Steve wouldn’t think twice about it if it was a regular thing, but the perfume was new. Very new. So something didn’t sit right, settling heavy in Steve’s stomach and refusing to leave until he addressed it, which he was definitely not going to do. No use in bringing it up again if it didn’t hurt anybody, Steve told himself as his stomach flopped at the smell of it.

He turned to face his bed partner as usual, but this time he nearly jumped out of his skin, as he came face to face with a very awake Bucky.

Bucky blinked owlishly at him, eyes scanning around Steve’s quickly reddening face. Steve prayed to every saint and then some that the room was dark enough to hide it.

As Steve was quietly freaking out, Bucky mumbled in a voice too soft and scratchy to be allowed, “S’the matter, Stevie?”

Steve tried not to die, lungs threatening him, and choked out a quiet, “Nothin’, Buck.”

Bucky frowned a bit, a crease forming between his brows, but he didn’t press further, and settled down into the pillows, closing his eyes. He fell asleep alarmingly fast, breath evening out immediately, and Steve thanked the saints and then some as he realized Bucky was sleep-talking. He argued with his lungs for a bit, and didn’t fall asleep for a long while, trying not to be sick at the smell of flowers.

-

As the nights went on, heart-clenching quickly turned into a pissed-off Steve, as Bucky continued to talk about his dry spell, then come home smelling like some doll. Steve repeatedly told himself he was only getting mad because Bucky was obviously lying to him, and not because he was so jealous it made his head swim. Jealous of Buck, he then told himself. Certainly not jealous of whatever girl he was currently shacking up with. Certainly not.

It all kind of came to a head one night, when Buck stumbled into the room rather loudly, pressing against Steve with the smell of perfume, smoke, and whiskey clinging to his clothes. Steve was mad before, but now he was furious.

He sat up and turned to the other man, jaw clenched tight.

“Would it kill you to sleep on the floor?” He spit. “I’m trying to get some damn sleep - not that you would know anything ‘bout it, since you spend all your time with that floozie!”

Bucky scowled and flopped over, pulling most of the sheets onto his side of the bed. “Ain’t seein’ a girl, Steve,” he slurred angrily into his pillow.

Steve yanked the sheets from him, jostling him in the process.

“Like Hell you ain’t!”

Bucky glared at him, eyes glassy. “None of your fuckin’ business, ‘nyway. Go to sleep. M’ tired as all geddout.”

Steve bit back tears, not quite understanding why he was getting so upset. Bucky didn’t seem to care at all. Why would he lie? Why would he lie to him? What did Steve ever do to him? But fine, screw it. He could sleep alone. Catch a cold. Fucking pneumonia. About time he got a turn with it.

Buck twisted his mouth into an angry line, but refused to say anything else, turning back over and getting comfortable despite the words Steve realized he had said out loud.

Beyond frustrated and a bit embarrassed, Steve retreated to the couch, shivering all night.

-

A few days passed, with Steve curling up onto the couch every night from then on. Bucky didn’t bring up their fight. Steve convinced himself that the other forgot about it. Then, Bucky came home around midnight and sat his ass down on the couch and refused to leave despite Steve’s sleepy stink-eye.

“What d’you want?” he spit.

Bucky bit his lip and looked for a moment like he might cry, the bastard. He stared at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers as he spoke. “Why are you ignoring me, Stevie? Did I do something wrong?”

Steve sat up, folding his legs and rubbing at his eyes. Bucky didn’t look at him, keeping his gaze fixed to his lap. His hair was soft, ungelled, and haloed in moonlight. Steve set his jaw and forced himself to be angry.

“Because you’re lying to me, Buck.” He said seriously, with some difficulty. “You come home smelling like some gal every night, and then refuse to tell me about it. It wouldn’t matter if you would just tell me about it instead of trying to shelter me or something - I’m not a kid anymore, and damnit, Buck,” Steve couldn’t stop the words pouring out of his mouth, or the tears finally from his eyes, “I’m not gonna judge you, you know that, and it’s just so frustrating because I’m _jealous_ , I guess, and I don’t know why! B-but I’m so _jealous_ , and I-“

Buck leaned over and kissed him.

There was a beat of silence, Buck’s lashes spreading out over his cheeks and his hand gently squeezing Steve’s leg, then Steve was gripping him back, pressing his own hand to the back of Bucky’s neck to make sure he would stay. Buck didn’t seem to want to go anywhere, and climbed over into Steve’s lap, taking care to leave most of his weight on his knees.

Steve kissed him back, other hand lifting to cup his jaw, and their cheeks were wet against each other.

After what seemed like a very long time, Steve pulled back and blinked the tears out of his eyes, scanning Bucky’s face, thumb absently stroking at his cheekbones.

“Why?” He finally whispered.

Bucky smiled sadly and told him, “There is a dame, Stevie.”

Steve furrowed his brow and stopped his stroking.

Buck shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts, and tried again.

“Been sneakin’ into my ma’s old perfume.” He dropped his gaze, rubbing circles with his thumb where his hand still rest on Steve’s thigh. “Thought you’d be asleep by the time I get home. Didn’t. Ah. Didn’t want you thinkin’ I was a fairy or nothin’...” He trailed off.

Steve, with his big mouth, could only say, “Is that what you are, then?”

Bucky smiled again, his face grim.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I feel like a girl, sometimes, Stevie. Y’know, up here.” He tapped his head with his other hand. “I can’t explain it…”

Steve thought for a moment, choosing his next words carefully for a change.

“Do you… Like bein’ a dame?” he asked slowly. “I mean, does it make you happy?”

Buck bit his lip and nodded.

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

Buck finally looked up, eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight. “But you ain’t a fairy, Steve. I don’t want you to have to-“

“If you’re a doll, Buck, it’s not like that. Besides, I-... I like you for you, no matter if you’re a boy, or…Y’know. Not a boy.”

Bucky looked at him, something like a tearful relief spreading their features. Before they could say anything else, Steve kissed them again, with a better angle this time.

Bucky made a small pleased sound and shifted higher in Steve’s lap, pressing their torso against his. Steve’s hands found their way into Buck’s hair, where he smoothed it out and absently played with it as Bucky made slow, desperate motions against his mouth. Steve felt their tongue against his, and groaned despite himself.

Bucky smiled, and Steve felt it against his lips, and he swooned.

-

“D’you remember…” Steve is saying, cautiously, pressing his cheek to Bucky’s hair as they kiss along his neck. “Ever coming home and-... Coming home late?”

Bucky doesn’t notice his hesitation, or doesn’t acknowledge it, and they kiss back up to his jaw, sweetly.

“Well, yeah. I worked more than I slept those days,” they mumble against his skin, smiling, and Steve can’t see their eyes but he guesses they don’t crinkle.

“You know what I mean.”

Bucky sits up after a final press of lips to Steve’s pulse and flicks their hair away from their face with a shake of the head. They search his face with their eyes, and Steve has to blink away the rest of the memory. They say, “Do I?”

Steve falters.

“I don’t know, Buck,” he admits.

Bucky smiles a little crooked and tilts their head in the most them way that Steve has to blink again, unless he sees the moonlight and gets caught up in the past for the thousandth time that night. Bucky is here now — why should the then matter so much?

“I remember you bein’ mad at me ‘bout it, yeah, but is that new?” Buck nudges him.

Steve cracks a smile despite himself, a real one, and ducks his head. He watches Buck stroke their thumb over his knuckles for a moment, then pulls Bucky closer to him. Bucky huffs a laugh, and rests their forehead on Steve’s shoulder, as Steve tilts into their neck and breathes them in.

He freezes. It smells like... He lifts his head, looking at Bucky. Bucky is looking away, but has a secret smile on their lips.

“You…Your...” Steve stammers.

Buck lets go of his hands and hooks one of their own behind his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, “Yeah, Stevie.”

Steve’s heart clenches, but he’s okay with it.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's short - I plan to add more to this in the future. But until then, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
> 
> Flower meaning is from [flowermeaning.com](http://www.flowermeaning.com/forget-me-not-flower-meaning/)


End file.
